Lucky
He watched her leave. And it took every ounce of his considerable strength to stay rooted to that ground she said she wished would swallow her up.
Lucky’s heart threatened to smash through its cage. He swallowed roughly. He couldn’t go after her. Not now. Not if he wanted to keep her.
And fuck, did he want to keep her.
“I’m a survivor.”
He smiled. Someone who knew him well wouldn’t recognize such a smile on his face. One didn’t exist there until before her. Before her, his smiles were happy, naïve, empty. A concentrated observer would see this wasn’t empty. It was full. Of melancholy, anger, hurt. And love. Not the puppies and bunnies Hollywood love. The dark, gritty, heart-wrenching, blood-drenched kind. The one that either gave him a reason to fight for his next breath on the same earth she existed on, or welcome the embrace of death which had already taken her.
It wouldn’t. Not for a long fucking time if he had anything to say about it.
So he didn’t follow her. Didn’t make chase.
He wrenched his phone from his cut.
“Skid. You’re on Becky. Every fuckin’ minute, every fuckin’ second. If you so much as glance up to marvel at the starry night’s sky and make a wish on a shooting star, you’ll be burning up in flames just like one,” he growled.
He hung up, not waiting for a response.
Because he had another destination in mind. Another person to direct his anger at.
“What the fuck, bro?” Gage protested as Lucky grabbed the sweetbutt on Gage’s lap and deposited her on the floor. She scowled at him but knew better than to say anything in protest. All the girls gave him a wide berth since they’d found Becky.
He knew he scared them. He didn’t give a shit. Plus, he had no fuckin’ plans of getting anywhere near them for whatever remained of his life.
He clutched Gage by the collar. “Why the fuck have you been hangin’ around Becky?” he clipped, barely restraining his urge to punch the fucker. He’d shelve that urge. It’d come in handy.
Gage regarded him with that icy, empty stare that was the motherfucker’s default. “She tell you?” he asked mildly.
He clutched his cut tighter. “I’m asking you,” he clipped. He had been beyond furious when Becky had refused to tell him why. Not at her; fuck, not even at Gage. He trusted his brother. Even now, his anger wasn’t really being directed at the right place. He was furious at himself for being unable to swallow this fuckin’ dragon, this white-hot rage that simmered every minute of every day.
“You’re askin’ the wrong person,” Gage replied.
Lucky got in his face. “That’s my woman,” he said quietly, dangerously.
Gage nodded. “Yeah, and she’s a good one too. Which is why I’m not betrayin’ her fuckin’ trust.” He shook Lucky off with ease. “Frankly, I’m insulted you think I’d try shit on with her. Not because she’s your woman, but because of the shit she’s been through. She ain’t ready for that shit. Not from me. Not from you. Even I got fuckin’ boundaries.”
On that, he turned his back on Lucky and tagged the girl who’d been hovering on the edge of their conversation, disappearing down the hallway.
Lucky stared after them.
Fuck.
He was more fucked-up than fuckin’ Gage. Gage.
That thought chilled him to the bone. But that didn’t stop him from plannin’ on seeing Becky. Nothing would, short of a bullet to the brain.
Chapter Nineteen
“She wears her strength and darkness equally well. The girl has always been half goddess, half hell.”
-Nikita Gill
Becky
I stared at the building, my nails biting into my palms so hard I was pretty sure I’d draw blood if they weren’t bitten to nothing.
“You’re sure you want to go in there?” Gage asked.
I didn’t look at him, just nodded.
“Interesting choice,” he said, staring at the script above the double doors.
My gaze snapped to him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He met my eyes, his cold and calculating stare giving nothing away. “It’s meant to mean interesting choice,” he said evenly. “Not many women would go back to this after what you went through.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not ‘many women,’” I said, gathering my bag and my confidence.
“I’m aware of that,” he muttered.
Gage and I had established a rather unconventional friendship. Though it was a stretch to call it a friendship. Could people really be friends with sharks? That’s what he was—a predator. Something vital was missing from him. I’m guessing what the junk took away.
That’s why I felt so at ease in his company. Something vital was missing from me too.
And he hadn’t even fluttered an eyelash when I’d requested he drop me here on the way back from our meeting.
“I’ll be here when you’re done,” he told me as I opened the door.
I turned my head. “You don’t have to stay. I can walk.” The prospect of walking out in the open, clean air had my chest feeling tight, that didn’t matter. I had to do this shit at some time. I couldn’t be afraid of the big wide world forever.